


Lover's Day: Vacation

by andrea_readwolf



Series: A Matter of Heart: Making a Family Arc [5]
Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Fluff and Smut, M/M, Polyamory, Post Mpreg, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2001-05-25
Updated: 2001-05-25
Packaged: 2020-01-12 11:39:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18445802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/andrea_readwolf/pseuds/andrea_readwolf
Summary: Lover's Day: Vacation, Part 5 of the Making a Family Arc, A Matter of Heart SeriesRating: NC-17Pairings: 4x3/3x4Warnings: The following story contain scenes that can be considered humorous, sappy, and a definite warning for unexpected Lemon-y-Lime goodness. YAOISpoilers: Matter of Heart SeriesDisclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and are only being used for non-profit entertainment purposes. References to printed texts, films, sitcoms, musical pieces, and/or other fanfictions don’t belong to the author either. Original Characters, including but not limited too, "the chibis", are original and hence, the author's own creation.





	Lover's Day: Vacation

**Author's Note:**

> Lover's Day: Vacation, Part 5 of the Making a Family Arc, A Matter of Heart Series 
> 
>  
> 
> Rating: NC-17  
> Pairings: 4x3/3x4
> 
>  
> 
> Warnings: The following story contain scenes that can be considered humorous, sappy, and a definite warning for unexpected Lemon-y-Lime goodness. YAOI   
> Spoilers: Matter of Heart Series   
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Gundam Wing and its characters belong to Bandai, Sunrise and Sotsu Agency and are only being used for non-profit entertainment purposes. References to printed texts, films, sitcoms, musical pieces, and/or other fanfictions don’t belong to the author either. Original Characters, including but not limited too, "the chibis", are original and hence, the author's own creation.

 

 

September 19th, 212AC

Quatre Winner reached the front door of his private residence before the butler did, leaving the rather proper-looking middle-aged man quite put out. The blond young man threw the door open without looking and turned back to the office he’d just come from, yelling up the winding staircase, “BOYS! UNCLE DUO’S HERE!”

He adjusted his hold on the little blonde baby girl slung over his hip and threw a look back over one shoulder to a grinning Duo Maxwell.

“Oh, come ‘ere baby girl!” the braided man cooed, holding out his arms and wiggling his fingers for the blonde baby doll. Somehow he even managed to steal a kiss from her daddy whilst pulling her free from Quatre’s arms.

“What?” the empty-handed man asked, pulling a pout out of his pocket and pasting it on. “Is that all the hello I get?”

“Yes,” Trowa answered for him, joining them from the study and greeting Duo with a full-blown kiss. “Mmm, thank you for this,” he said, playing with Calista’s baby fists. The clamoring of tiny feet pounding down the staircase in a stampede numbering two drowned out whatever reply Duo might have made. Two identical little blond boys—breathless and excited—appeared front and center, a duffle bag slung over each shoulder, ground to a halt just seconds before barreling into the three men.

“Good, you have your sister’s things, too,” Quatre noted. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing, Dad,” Triton responded, shifting one of the bags.

“Better hurry up,” Duo grinned. “Heero’s waiting for you in the car, you hooligans—don’t wanna keep him waiting, do ya?” The three men shared an amused smile as the two boys made tracks out the door.

“Well, listen,” Duo said, turning to face the other two. “You two have fun this week, okay? Don’t worry about a thing. I think we can handle everything just fine, okay?”

“Okay, well, you have our PCs in case of an emergency—“

“There’s not going to be—“ Duo cut the blond off, only to be cut off by the blond.

“Just in case,” Quatre insisted. “And you already know their doctors’ and the—“

“Quatre,” Duo said, placing a hand on the blond’s shoulder and looking into his eyes. “We’ll be fine. Honest. Heero, Wufei, and me can handle the boys just fine, and Calista’s never a bother.”

“We just worry about them,” Trowa put in, touching Duo’s shoulder and smiling at him. “You would, too, if it was the girls and Dylan.”

Duo grinned and conceded. “Yeah, guess you’re right. Hey, listen, I better go too before Heero gets too impatient!” He gave each man a hug and kiss before making his own tracks out the door.

The door closed behind Duo and Quatre rushed over to the window to look out. He could see the twins already inside the car, waving with all their might to him. Quatre waved back until Duo was in the car, too, and they were pulling away. He felt a hand on his back and looked up to see Trowa beside him, watching the car drive away, too.

“They’ll be fine,” Trowa said, rubbing soothing circles over the blond’s back.

“I know,” Quatre sighed, falling into him, and then turning away. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t worry or miss them.”

“It’s only for a week,” Trowa said, following him back into the office. “You’ve been on business trips longer than that.”

“I know, I know!” Quatre fell into his chair and looked up over to Trowa, looking miserable. “I guess it’s just different when you’re the one being left behind.”

The cinnamon haired man smiled and covered the desk, pulling Quatre up to him and into his arms. “Now you know how *we* feel,” he teased, kissing Quatre’s temple and sliding his hands into his. “Come on,” he said with a gentle tug. “We have to finish packing.”

“What’s this resort have again?” Quatre groaned, following his husband out the door. “That home doesn’t?”

“A little bit of peace and quiet, a chance for some quality time. Just you, and me… and no distractions,” Trowa answered, leading to the stairs.

Quatre tugged back, forcing Trowa to stop and look back at him. The blond man grinned up at him, blue eyes twinkling. “Oh, I don’t know…” he said with a mischievous lilt. “I can think of some very welcome *distractions*…”

Trowa shared the grin and moved into the blond’s arms. “I wouldn’t consider *that* a distraction…” he murmured before moving his lips over Quatre’s.

“Mmm… good to know…” the blond murmured back.

 

* * *

 

 

Sandrock II, Quatre Winner’s personal jet, set down in the small airstrip the tropical island provided. From there, the two lovers would travel by boat to another smaller island in the area—a completely private island that Trowa had purchased for the next week. No one—not house staff, not groundskeepers, not secretaries or project managers, not even the kids—would be there to distract their vacation.

The small motorboat ran aground and the mate helped unload their bags on the beach.

“Is someone supposed to be meeting us?” Quatre asked, surveying the long stretch of pearly-white sand.

“Nope.” Trowa slung two bags over one shoulder and a third over the other, taking the key the mate held out to him before he pushed back out in the small boat. Trowa handed a fourth bag to Quatre. “*Why* did you insist on bringing so much again?”

Quatre turned back to them, surprised to see the mate already gone. “Oh! He’s not staying?”

“No, Quatre. It’s just us this week.” He started walking towards the trail, knowing that, at the other end, they’d find a small but decent bungalow perfect for two.

“*No* one?” Quatre jogged a bit to catch up with his taller, longer-legged lover. “*Just* *us*?”

“That’s right,” Trowa called back, intent on seeing what their accommodations looked like. He heard something crash behind him and whipped around and stared.

“Why, Trowa Barton!” Quatre stood, hands on hips, grinning back at him—his bag had fallen and caused the noise. “Are you kidnapping me?”

Trowa blinked, then laughed, then nodded, letting his bags drop to the ground, too, and closing the gap between them. Quatre molded against him, fitted into his arms like perfection, and a tiny mew of contentment wrested from his chest. “You are completely *mine* for this entire week,” he announced, lowering his lips over Quatre’s.

“I already am,” the blond man replied, meeting him halfway.

Mouths meshed, tongues dueled and danced, swept and attacked in a flurry of moans and heavy breathing. “How private did you say this resort was?” Quatre gasped, trailing kisses over Trowa’s cheek and down his chin.

“Very!” the taller man cried, rocking his hips into Quatre’s sneaking hand.

“Good. So I can take you right here, right now…” Quatre’s teeth set a trail down Trowa’s throat, seizing the bump of his Adam’s apple and covering it with several swipes of his tongue.

“Uhn uah,” the cinnamon-haired man breathed, reaching for Quatre’s wrists and seizing them, wresting them behind the smaller man’s back. He looked down into his lover’s questioningly amused face. “This week is mine. This week *you* are mine—“

“Then let me pleasure you!” Quatre leaned up on his tippy-toes, trying to reach Trowa’s mouth and settling for his chin and throat instead. Trowa ducked, protecting his sensitive throat from his love’s arduous intentions. He nibbled at Quatre’s lips until the other man moaned in response. “*My* week, *my* wants, *my* pleasures…” he whispered, his tongue caressing the blond’s swollen lips.

Quatre’s wrists switched to one hand, the other sweeping down his back to curve over one tight ass-cheek. “All *mine*,” Trowa growled. Quatre vibrated with sexual excitement in his arms, nuzzling his face into the crook of Trowa’s arm. “Greedy, aren’t you?”

“Mmmhmmm…” He squeezed and molded, the tiny motions rocking Quatre closer against him. “We’re almost at the bungalow…” Quatre’s hips circled against his and he bit off with a moan.

“Then we should hurry up and get there, huh?” the blond man teased, giving a small nip to Trowa’s tee-clad arm before pulling away and bending over to retrieve his bag. Behind him, Trowa groaned, and Quatre hid a small, knowing smile before tossing his lover a questing look. “Coming?”

Trowa’s breath hitched and he shifted in his tight jean shorts. “Not yet, but…” He snatched up his bags and joined Quatre back on the trail. “I think that can be arranged. What do you think?”

“Oh, it’s *definitely* on the schedule of events this week,” Quatre agreed, sidling up closer and threading his hand into Trowa’s.

 

* * *

 

 

“Well, it’s not bad,” Trowa commented, letting his bags fall to the floor next to the queen-sized bed.

“No,” Quatre agreed, returning from his inspection of the bathroom. “The kitchen is decently stocked, and it at least *looks* clean…”

They turned to each other, smiling. “Home for the next week,” Trowa whispered. His blond love shot him a wicked-looking smile. “We’d better christen it, eh?”

Quatre was in his arms, his own arms worming around his neck as he hopped up onto Trowa, the momentum throwing the other man off balance—even though he’d been expecting it—and sending the two bodies crashing back into the bed. The shift of gravity didn’t seem to distract Quatre as the blond man continued to steal Trowa’s breath away, his smaller body squirming over his love’s as he straddled the taller man and his hands worked double-time on Trowa’s belt.

Trowa moaned into Quatre’s mouth, one hand sneaking beneath the khaki shorts to cup the blond’s firm little ass, the other buried somewhere in the golden silk waves at his skull. He let the other man have his wicked with way with him until his pants were undone and Quatre’s hands were roaming freely over his chest. Quatre was in a similar state of undress and Trowa used the second’s state of disorientation when he pulled the blond man’s shirt up over his head to twist and drop his love onto his back. Quatre went down with an “Oomphf!” followed by a deep, pleasurable moan as Trowa settled over him.

“Mine,” Trowa growled before taking another kiss. Quatre’s legs wrapped around his waist, hooking the small of his back as the two’s hips crashed together with heated vigor. Quatre’s lips tore away from his and the blond boy gave a painful, pleasure-filled scream. Trowa trailed kisses down his chin, his throat, down his bare chest, following the small, golden happy trail down, down, down. His fingers hooked into Quatre’s shorts and moved lower, dragging the shorts with them.

“Mine,” Trowa repeated, hot breath racing shivers up and down Quatre’s body. His tongue darted out and swiped a taste of the flaccid beauty before him. Quatre’s whimpery cry floated down to him, but he was too lost in his own worship to respond, moving to lick from base to tip, tongue swirling around and around until the blond man was clean and sticky and semi-hard again.

Trowa pulled away, content for the moment to just sit and look. To realize that this vision before him really was *his*--his lover, his husband, the father of his three beautiful children… his life. “I love you,” he whispered, climbing up the bed and dropping a small, gentle little kiss on the blond’s sweaty forehead as he pulled him into his arms.

Quatre smiled and nuzzled closer. “Love you, too,” he murmured, already drifting off to sleep.

Trowa smiled and reached for the edge of the sheets to cover them with—there would be plenty of time in the days to come.

 

* * *

 

 

Quatre laid back into the sand, feeling the warm grains give way beneath him and mold up around his body like a cocoon. The cool tropical breeze tempered the warm tropical sun—both of which helped evaporate the cool water of the sea from his body. Just when he was almost completely dry and contemplating going back to the bungalow for a bit of lunch, a shadow fell over him and drops of water rained down upon him. “Hey!” he yelped, sitting up and almost cracking skulls with his lover.

“Hey yourself,” Trowa murmured, straddling Quatre’s waist and seating himself in his lap. Their lips met, parted, and met again. “You left me,” the taller man accused, leaning Quatre back into the sand.

Quatre’s laughed as Trowa’s wet bang—not as lofty as when dry, but still uppity— tickled his throat. “I told you I was going to dry off—you *chose* to stay in!”

Trowa’s lips trailed down his chest, his tongue flickering over each pouty nipple. “Mmmm… have I ever told you how good you taste?”

“Yes,” Quatre breathed, “But you’re quite welcome to tell me again!” He arched into Trowa’s kisses, hips wiggling, legs moving back and forth in tiny caresses.

Trowa hooked a leg over his shoulder, guiding himself into Quatre’s slick passage, his lips ghosting over the blond’s in a phantom kiss. “You are so beautiful,” he breathed.

 

* * *

 

 

They went hiking the third day, traipsing to the other side of the jungle, hunting out the local wildlife. It was good; playing make-believe and practicing skills they’d long-gone retired like stealth and surveillance. An impromptu game of Hide&Seek proved Trowa still had the quiet prowess of a lion and the two made love on the banks of a small freshwater oasis. Later, they bathed beneath the crisp water of the falls and laughed and playing like teenagers, seeing who could hold their breath the longest or who could swim the fastest or farthest. The strange thing was, neither one strayed very far from the other’s side.

 

* * *

 

 

It rained their fourth day on the island.

Trowa and Quatre didn’t mind much though. The two stayed, cuddled up in bed together, late into the morning, a chessboard laid out between them. They were on their third game, and Quatre was losing, again.

“Come outside with me,” the blond entreated, his aquiline eyes dancing with promised mischief.

“But we’re in the middle of a game,” Trowa replied his tone teasing and laughing despite his straight face.

Quatre rolled onto his back, his fingers playing over his chest and stomach. “If I let you win again, will you come outside with me?”

His love snorted. “’Let me win’?” Quatre just smiled up at him and blinked his pretty blue eyes. “What do you want to go outside, anyway?” Trowa asked, looking to the window and the falling rain. “It’s still raining.”

Quatre sat up, startling the game pieces, and leaned over against Trowa. “Dance with me?” he whispered, his voice laced with promises. “In the rain?” He pulled away, tugging at Trowa’s hand. Trowa followed, with a somewhat bemused smile. Out the door and down the three wooden steps, Quatre led them to just beyond the small vegetable garden, turning to stare up at him. His unbuttoned white shirt hung from his shoulders, the rain plastering it against his skin—sun-kissed golden, like his hair—his cut-off shorts were darkening as they drank in the rain. He looked gorgeous, holding his arms out open for Trowa to step into them.

He did so without hesitation, wrapping the smaller man up, holding him against them as they swayed to an invisible orchestra, playing just for them. A cloud broke, and a beam of sunlight highlighted their little dance like a spotlight. In his arms, Quatre giggled. “I think the sun approves of our dance…”

Trowa’s lips ghosted over Quatre’s and he smiled. “*You* are my sunshine.”

 

* * *

 

 

Two relaxed and very happy men climbed back into the dingy on the fifth evening. Smiling, Quatre leaned against Trowa, feeling sated and content with the other’s arm thrown over his shoulders. The mate shot them a knowing little smile and nodded to himself.

“I almost hate to leave,” Quatre mused as he watched the island grow smaller.

Trowa twisted to look down at him. “Almost?”

Quatre smiled and tucked his face into Trowa’s shirt. “Mmm. Only one thing could have made this week better,” he admitted.

“Oh? What was that?” Trowa tried to hide the hurt he felt at not succeeding the perfect vacation for his love, but, somehow, Quatre must have picked up on it because the blond man looked up at him, radiant smile blazing, and reaching up to cup Trowa’s cheek.

“If the boys and Callie were here with us,” Quatre whispered, leaning up to kiss him.

Trowa smiled against his lips and pulled him closer. He’d remember that for next time.

 

* * *

 

 

Sandrock II was waiting for them when they returned to the main island and it was only a seventy-five-minute flight to their home airstrip. Both men were anxious to get home and see their little ones, but when they arrived, the house was empty. Completely. Even the servants were absent.

“Where is everybody?” Quatre mused, walking through the empty rooms.

“I think this may explain it,” Trowa answered, coming from the kitchen with a white piece of paper in his hands. He handed it to Quatre.

~ Hey guys!  
Hope you had *fun*! Take an extra day for yourselves—Heero, Wu, and me took the kids camping. But try not to have *too* much fun without us, ok? Love ya! Ja-ja!  
Duo   
PS. Oh, by the way, I gave your staff Lover’s Day off. Happy Lover’s Day! ~

Quatre looked up at Trowa, a shocked, bemused expression coloring his face. “I forgot all about Lover’s Day…”

Trowa just smiled and wrapped his little lover up in his embrace. “*I* didn’t,” he answered, leaning over and kissing Quatre senseless.

“Mmm… mmm mmm mmm…” Trowa pulled away, smirking down at him. “Wha--?”

He dropped a kiss on the blond’s nose. “I think I saw some sponge cake and whip cream and some strawberries in the kitchen…?”

Blue eyes sparkled. “Is it my turn to have my wicked way with you now?” Trowa nodded and Quatre pounced. “Then what are we waiting for?” His kissed his cinnamon haired lover with all he was worth. “Happy Lover’s Day, Trowa. I love you.”

“Je t'aime aussi…” he murmured against Quatre’s lips.

“I love it when you talk French…”

 

The End

~*Lover’s Day is a special day for Lover’s—may we all be so lucky as to enjoy it, every day. ^_~v*~

Andrea Readwolf

 

 


End file.
